The Cool Jerk
by Dan Sickles
Summary: Rick and Morty run wild in television land, righting wrongs on Game of Thrones and partying with the jocks from FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS. Oh, and they also do a little thing called "The Cool Jerk." Rated T for violence and adult language.


THE COOL JERK

_This story is obviously a GOT/RM crossover, but it's also a song fic! So while you're reading please listen to "The Cool Jerk" by the Capitols on YouTube. And remember, please comment nicely!_

Late one night, Rick Sanchez staggered into the living room to find his grandson Morty staring blankly at the family TV.

"Morty!" The mad genius belched. "What's happening, homie?"

"I can't believe it, Rick!" Morty's pie-shaped face was wet with tears. "Man, I never thought they would do that to Geoffrey. Not Geoffrey Baratheon! The coolest guy on Game of Thrones, and they killed him!" Looking for answers, the young man turned searchingly to his insane mentor and guide. "Rick, how come on Game of Thrones the coolest guys always get wasted?"

"HBO is for losers," Rick proclaimed, burping up tacos and collapsing on the sofa. "Besides, Geoffrey was a psycho. He was like that guy in the old song by the Capitols, a real cool jerk!"

"But that's why I liked him!" Morty protested. "I mean, I try to be a good guy, but deep down I always wanted to be kind of a crazy bad-ass, you know? Just like my man Geoffrey." Suddenly a look of burning determination filled the meek young man's eyes. "Rick, we have to travel to that dimension. We have to save King Geoffrey before he drinks the poisoned wine at his own wedding!"

"Morty, is this some kind of homo-erotic boy crush thing? I mean it's cool if it is, but you know, TV is just make-believe. You need to focus on – blecch – focus on more important things. You know, like getting wasted, getting pussy, and . . . and . . . ZZZZZZ!"

While Rick was passed out, Morty went into action. He loaded his unconscious grandfather into their secret flying machine, packed up some weapons and drugs and other supplies, and took off!

At King's Landing, meanwhile, the royal wedding was in full swing. Arrogant young King Geoffrey was feeling great! He'd just humiliated his sarcastic, scar-faced dwarf of an uncle and his bride to be Margaery was smiling demurely while showing off her fabulous cleavage. If only he wasn't so thirsty . . .

"Cool jerk!" A hand from nowhere knocked the goblet flying.

"How dare you!" Geoffrey glared at the wild-haired old man. A boy his own age with a round pie-face was hiding behind the old man like a puppy, clinging to his legs. "I shall have you both roasted alive and served to my guests for calling me a cruel jerk!"

"I said a cool jerk," the wild-haired stranger shot back, looking the arrogant young king in the eye.

The boy with the squeaky voice broke the deadly silence. "Your Majesty, my grandfather just meant that – he meant that you're really cool, like in the song! You know, you're a king and you're also a cat, a cat who's the king of the cool jerk!"

"You mean a cat of a different coat." Mad king Geoffrey was amused. "But what is this cool jerk?"

"Good Ser Morty here is dying to show you," Rick wisecracked.

"Okay, uh, yeah! Sure, I guess." Morty was never much of a dancer, but Rick was a genius at generating a funky beat and forcing the minstrels at the wedding to play along. Visions of being tortured to death forced Morty to whip his body back and forth in torment, yet after a moment he realized he wasn't alone.

"Ha, ha," Geoffrey laughed. "Look at them guys looking at me like I'm a fool. Ah, but deep down inside they know I'm cool." The young king danced and at the same time he shouted, telling all the nobles of King's Landing that this was the moment of truth, that even though his uncle and his grandfather wore a silly smirk, they all knew he was the king of the cool jerk!

"Can you do it?" Geoffrey challenged, confronting the Gold Cloaks, his grandfather, his uncle, his other uncle (really his father), his mother and his whole rotten family. "Can you do it?"

Rick and Morty repeated the question, over and over. It was almost like a frenzied ritual, and the music got faster and faster.

"Can you do it can you do it can you do it can you do it . . ."

"Cool jerk!" The arrow shot forth from underneath the banquet table, as Geoffrey's crooked dwarf of an uncle took his revenge.

"Kill them!" Mean old Tywin Lannister shouted, pointing at Rick and Morty. "They bewitched my grandson and they must die!"

"NO! They are loyal knights!" Geoffrey was dying, blood pouring from his throat. He sank to the floor and Morty ran to his side.

"You guys are cool," Geoffrey choked. "You're really cool, Ser Morty. Don't ever forget that. Oh, and kill my family. All of them."

"Rick, help us! Do something!" Morty howled, hoping his grandfather would maybe rush over with a tourniquet or fire a healing medical laser beam at the king or something.

"No problem-oh, kid." Crazy old Rick didn't lift a finger to help the dying king who had learned too late the meaning of cool. Instead he pointed his portal gun at the nearest blank wall.

"Ah, gee, Rick, are we just gonna leave when we started all this trouble?" Morty felt like a jerk. And not a cool jerk, either. He'd wanted to save Geoffrey but the boy king died anyway, just in a different way! On top of that there were about thirty Gold Cloaks and Lannister men at arms charging them with drawn swords.

"Cats," Geoffrey choked, fading fast. "You need cats."

"Cats, Rick!" Morty had no idea what he was even saying.

"Sure, Morty. Cats are coming right up!" Rick fired his portal gun, but instead of opening up a gap so they could escape back to their own world a thundering herd of warriors charged forth from the green-tinted field of energy. They were all young and wore strange helmets on their heads, yet they fought with fury, smashing into Lannister men and King's Guards and tackling them and pounding them till they screamed for mercy. And they chanted strange words that were like the motto of a great house.

"Clear eyes! Full hearts! Can't lose!"

Morty moaned and smacked his forehead. "Aw, gee, Rick, did you have to summon up the Dillon Panthers? I mean, Game of Thrones is cutting edge TV, but Friday Night Lights is just . . . well, it's like the last sad gasp of network television, you know?"

"Cats," Geoffrey whispered, smiling faintly as his life ebbed away. "They're cats of a different coat. Like me they're cool. So cool!"

And so the dying king proclaimed that the Dillon Panthers would rule in his stead and restore order to Westeros. Coach Taylor took charge of the Night's Watch and keeping order north of the Wall. Smash was put in charge of making peace with Dorn and the cities beyond the Red Waste. Riggins got to marry Lady Margaery and maintain the important diplomatic alliance with her family's house. And Jason and Lila were proclaimed king and queen and sat together on the Iron Throne.

"That ending sucks," Morty complained, as Rick was flying him back home in their saucer-like craft. "A bunch of limp-dick football players take over Game of Thrones? I wanted Geoffrey to go ballistic and just start killing all the people who tried to poison him. You know, like he was finally getting some payback!"

"Morty, the Cool Jerk was never about payback. The Cool Jerk is about having fun. Geoffrey was a sick loser his whole life, but thanks to you at least he died having fun. Think about it."

Morty thought about it. And he cried all the way home.


End file.
